Dante vs the Internet Read online

  Dante vs. The Internet

  Eleanor Bruce

  H.L. Holston

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Leave a Review?

  Other Titles by the Authors

  Complete Backlist

  Copyright © 2015, 2020 by H.L. Holston and Eleanor Bruce

  Formatting by: Giovanna Reaves

  Cover by: Kellie Dennis

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only on your personal reading devices. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the work of these authors.

  Previously published in the anthology, Limelight: A M/M Entertainment Bundle, but this version has been re-edited, and many, many words were added.

  H.L. Holston and Eleanor Bruce. Dante vs. the Internet. All rights reserved.

  Photo credits: Laurel Canyon, CA - © Can Stock / MSPhotographics

  Maltese dog mixed with a poodle, @lifeonwhite

  Santa Monica Pier, @littleny

  “Chris,” young businessman, @curaphotography

  Hollywood Hills sunrise, @trekandshoot

  All photos purchased from Deposit Photos or Can Stock under their standard licensing policy except where otherwise noted.

  Created with Vellum

  Dante vs. the Internet

  Actor Dante Moretti is a jerk and the Internet hates him. Determined to change his image, he concocts a crazy plan and ropes his best friend into his scheme. One fake relationship coming up!

  Up for the lead in the next potential blockbuster, Dante Moretti is told to tone it down or miss out on the role of a lifetime. First step: stop partying. Second step: convince the world he’s in a stable, committed relationship. Kind of hard to do when the paparazzi are following his every move, ready and eager to catch his next drunken mishap and post it on the internet.

  Enter Chris Parker, his best friend and former co-star of a crappy sci-fi television show. Oh, and extremely heterosexual. It’s a minor detail that Dante really hopes doesn’t blow up in his face because he needs a boyfriend now and Chris is willing to take on the role. With the world commenting on his every move, Dante can only hope their #fakeboyfriend plan gets better ratings than their TV show.

  Many thanks to Lou Harper, Gina Grant, Kari Gregg, Debra Jess and Jessie Gin, who helped proofread this novel. And a special thanks to Sarah Biglow, who asked nicely for Chris’s POV.

  Last, but not least, Gia Reaves for her formatting help!

  Prologue

  Dante Moretti sat on the can, inhaling and exhaling into a paper bag. He usually had a panic attack before an audition, rather than after, but he needed this role. His last two Broadway shows had bombed, one closing a week after opening night, the other shutting down due to low ticket sales. The Big Apple was no longer an option.

  He tried to get his breathing under control, repeating the mantra Dr. Anita had taught him: Inhale. Exhale. You are a brilliant actor. Inhale. Exhale.

  He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the outside bathroom door burst open. Voices broke through his chant. Shit, he was going to puke now. He opened his trusty brown paper bag to hurl when he heard his name mentioned.

  Dante swallowed the bile to listen. Yuk. Nasty.

  “Shame about Moretti. He’d have been perfect for this role,” voice number one said.

  “Yeah.” voice number two agreed. “He’s got the chops for it, but the studio execs are never going to let us cast him.”

  No! No! No! He needed this role. Like yesterday.

  Dante leaned forward and peered through the sliver of light between the door and the bathroom stall to try to see the men. He knew one of them. Voice number one was Charlie Peterson, the casting director for the movie he’d just read for. The guy had a lot of clout in the industry having discovered Mitchell Jones, the so-called “new” Al Pacino, who’d been doing dinner theater in Atlantic City before making it big.

  The movie had garnered a lot of buzz around town, and it was a minor miracle his agent got him a reading. Dante’s last hit movie had been two years ago; a supporting role in Kong: Skull Island. He’d been eaten by Mothra thirty minutes into the flick. If Charlie cast him as Logan, in the new Logan’s Run movie, Dante’s career would be back on track.

  He’d read in the trades that Tom Hiddleston, his co-star in Kong, was interested in playing Logan, too. Emily Hewitt was already signed to play Jessica, Logan’s love interest.

  Through the crack between the door stall and the frame, he could see the men had finished peeing and were now washing their hands at the sink. Dante stood up and pressed himself against the cold metal of the bathroom door and listened intently.

  “What’s up with that? He’s perfect for the role of Logan. Plus, he’s got the fan base from that sci-fi TV show. If my kid watches it one more time, I’m gonna have an aneurysm,” Charlie said.

  Tall, dark and suity, or voice number two, shook his head. “He may be perfect for the role, but he’s a PR nightmare. That recent blow-out with his boyfriend in the middle of the East Village tipped him into unbankable material.”

  The man pulled a comb out from his jacket pocket and ran it through his hair, staring into the large mirror on the bathroom wall. When he was done, he licked a finger and smoothed it over a noticeable bald spot, trying to cover it up with what remaining hair he had left.

  Good luck with that, asshole! Dante thought. You can see that thing from space.

  “The studio won’t hire him because he’s gay?” Charlie sounded pissed off. Maybe he was a member of the Rainbow Coalition? Wait, he’d talked about having a kid…

  “Fuck no,” replied Asshole. “Moretti’s been out since he first got cast in Space Pirates. No one cares he’s queer. The studio won’t hire him because he’s worse than Lindsay Lohan. It’s one disastrous relationship after another all played out on the tabloid front pages and on TMZ. The studio wants someone who’s stable. Someone like Neil Patrick Harris...a poster child of monogamy that the Midwest could eat up, and despite the logical inconsistency, a serious love interest for Emily.”

  Charlie nodded in agreement. “It’s a shame Dante can’t clean up his act in time because he really nailed the reading. I guess Hiddleston’s a shoo-in with Moretti out.” The man sounded disappointed that Dante wouldn’t be cast.

  As the two men left, Dante sat on the toilet, this time fuming with rage and humiliation. Tom didn’t need this movie, he had Marvel money. Dante had just enough cash to pay his mortgage for a couple of more months, no more.

  More importantly, Dante deserved this role. He had a People’s Choice Award for fuck’s sake and was voted the “Sexist Man in Sci-Fi” two years running on After Elton when Space Pirates aired.

  Sure, the show had only been on The CW, but their fans were loyal and dedicated. Their Twitte
r campaign alone had gotten the show a second season even when their ratings were in the toilet and TV Guide had called them “brainless entertainment.”

  I’ll show them, Dante vowed. If he could have a stable, paparazzi-free private life, then maybe Charlie and his friend would reconsider him for the part.

  He’d become the poster child for gay monogamy. Neil Patrick Harris and his husband would be calling him for relationship advice when Dante was done.

  Now he only had to figure out where to find a boyfriend.

  Chapter One

  “Are you crazy?”

  The look on Chris’ face would have been hilarious if his raised eyebrows, open mouth and bulging eyes hadn’t signaled he thought Dante had completely lost his mind.

  “No, I’m not crazy.”

  His roommate shook his head and walked off toward the kitchen.

  Dante stormed after him. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Chris opened a cabinet and took down a bottle of whiskey and a glass. “I have a feeling I’m going to need to be lubricated for this.”

  Dante lowered his head and sighed. “Pour me one.” He knew Chris would be hard to convince, but he hadn’t expected this level of resistance. Maybe getting him drunk was the way to go. He’d certainly be more pliable.

  Chris poured two fingers of whiskey in each glass and handed one to Dante. He swallowed a mouthful and said, “Okay, go on.”

  Dante drank the contents of his glass in one go and held it out for another. Maybe it would be easier if he were the one to get drunk.

  “Dammit, Christopher, I want this role. I’m perfect for it, but the casting director thinks I’m the gay Lindsay Lohan.”

  “Well, you are,” Chris said, not an ounce of scorn in his voice.

  Chris poured him a third drink; Dante hadn’t even noticed that his glass was empty. “Thanks for the support, asshole. Some best friend you are,” Dante grumbled. “But seriously, I need to clean up my act ASAP. A stable boyfriend will do the trick and you’re perfect for the role.”

  Chris snorted. “You do remember I’m not gay, right? No matter what our Space Pirates fans post on the Internet, I’m straight.” Laughing, he poured himself another whiskey and waved the bottle at Dante who slapped his hand over his glass. No more booze tonight; he needed to think straight —as it were.

  Chris’ jovial attitude irritated the hell out of him. Maybe he had fucked-up in every other aspect of his life, but his love for acting was not a joke. This was serious business. They were talking about the future of his career. Chris didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation!

  His friend’s attitude toward his own career was a different matter altogether. Oh, he was very serious about that. Time for a new approach.

  “Look at it as a role, Chris,” he said. “You’ll be playing the part of Dante Moretti’s boyfriend. I’m not asking you to jump to the Dark Side for real. I just need a pretend boyfriend so I can land this movie. We can break up after filming’s done.”

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that will really show Hollywood you’re in a stable, monogamous relationship when you dump me in a couple of months and move on to your next wreck of the week.” He paced around the small kitchen, throwing his hands up in the air. “It would never work anyway. The press knows I’m not gay. I mean, how many times did we get asked if we were a couple when the show aired?”

  “Hundreds,” Dante murmured satirically.

  “At least, and every single time I’d make some joke that while you were cute, I preferred tall, leggy, blonde women.” Chris stressed the last word.

  Dante had planned for this excuse during the long drive home from the audition. He called it The Three Easy Rebuttals to Anything Chris Might Object To.

  Rebuttal Number One: “But, the press doesn’t know about your experimental phase at Julliard now do they, Christopher?”

  If looks could kill there would be nothing left of Dante but a dusting of rainbow ashes. “I told you that in confidence, asshole! You tequila pinky swore you’d never tell anyone. Plus, a few blowjobs and jerk off sessions in college doesn’t mean I’m gay, just open-minded.”

  “True, but technically it could make you bisexual. My new boyfriend doesn’t have to be completely gay, just into me.”

  Dante knew he was being a dick by bringing up Chris’ past sexual experiences to twist his arm and get him to accept his proposal, but he needed Chris to get onboard the Boyfriend Train. Chris was perfect to play this part. They were close friends and had already worked together. He knew Chris had the acting chops to pull off the scam.

  Time for Rebuttal Number Two: “This could be a boost for your career. Think of all the publicity you’ll get when you come out. Your name will be in every magazine, newspaper and every entertainment website. Twitter will go nuts! Your phone will be ringing off the hook from casting agents.”

  Chris’ lips twisted into a cynical smile. “And Twitter just loves you.”

  “Hey! That’s one idiot Star Trek fan,” Dante protested. “And what the hell does Spock4Life know? Stupid name anyway.”

  Chris laughed. “I told you not to get on Twitter.”

  “Whatever, my PR team says I need a social media presence, Mr. Luddite.”

  “I have an Instagram.”

  “Chris, you take pictures of LA street signs and post them. Your account doesn’t even have a profile picture.”

  “I’m making a statement with my art. Not everyone has to be a Kardashian and post half-naked photo ops to sell products no one really needs.”

  “Art,” Dante snorted. “You are such a pretentious asshole, Julliard.” Chris glared and Dante tried to remember what they were talking about before…oh yeah.

  “Three words for you: Neil Patrick Harris.”

  Chris slapped his hands down on the counter and reached for the whiskey again. “Are you fucking kidding me? Are you really using Doctor Doogie as the example of why it’s safe to come out in Hollywood? He’s the exception to the rule and you know it.”

  “Richard Chamberlin.” Dante retorted.

  “He’s old, and he retired,” Chris fired back.

  “Zachary Quinto.”

  “He came out after he landed the Spock role. Not before.” Chris’ voice was courteous but patronizing.

  Dante had forgotten how smart Chris could be. He may be blond, but Christopher Parker was anything but dumb.

  “Ricky Martin!” Dante screamed, triumphant.

  Chris shot him a blistering look. “Like that was a shocker. He’s not an actor. Discarded.”

  “Matt Bomer.” Dante jumped up and down as he threw that name out.

  The withering glance he got in return made him reconsider his victory.

  “He’s married to one of the biggest power players in Hollywood. Like anyone would tank his career at this juncture. Plus, he’s not a movie star-”

  Dante started to interrupt, but Chris beat him to the punch. “I know Magic Mike is your favorite movie, but it doesn’t count. Bomer wasn’t the lead!”

  Another point to Mr. Parker, Dante thought grudgingly. “Nathan Lane.” By now Dante was growing tired of the name game.

  “He’s allowed, as is David Hyde Pierce, and every other Broadway actor you’ve got spinning around in your head. They’re not trying to land leading men roles anymore. I am,” he said firmly. “If you can name one thirty-something A-lister who’s still been cast in a blockbuster movie or on television after they’ve announced they’re gay, then I might consider this. But I don’t think you name one, can you?”

  Dante thought for a moment. And then for a little longer. Chris made a big show of checking his watch. Dante would punch him if he started humming the Jeopardy song. Chris was right, Dante couldn’t think of any big-name actors who’d come out and kept their careers. Now, he couldn’t think of any big-name actors who’d come out besides Neil Patrick Harris.

  His plan was screwed. Trust Chris to have a rebuttal to thrash his rebuttal
. Fuck Julliard and their high academic standards. Why couldn’t Chris have gone to community college like he had? Next time, Dante would pick a stupider best friend.

  Time to pull out the big guns.

  “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you owe me.”

  Chris’ smirk faded away, growing into a disappointed frown. However, Dante couldn’t back down now, he needed a boyfriend ASAP and he didn’t have time to audition anyone else for the role, let alone have lawyers draw up a non-disclosure agreement. Chris was here and he could act. What he was about to do could tarnish their friendship, but desperate times and all that!

  “I know things got rough after your business manager stole all your money and ran off to Rio.” Dante waved toward the living room where the couch was still covered with a bed sheet from where Chris had slept last night, and every night for the past two months. “But consider this a payback for letting you crash here.”

  If the Nordic blue of Chris’ eyes could get any frostier, Dante would have turned into an ice statue in the middle of his kitchen. Chris’ usual mellow, playful demeanor was gone. While Dante had seen that aloof attitude aimed at a few nosy reporters and on occasion an incompetent director, he’d never seen it directed at him.

  Chris silently screwed the cap back on the bottle and placed the glasses in the sink. He pushed past Dante and left the kitchen. His suitcase sat in the corner of the living room. He opened it and started tossing a few of his belongings inside.

  Dante stepped in front of him. “Chris, wait a minute! You don’t have to leave.”

  “Get out of my way.” Chris pushed past him, nearly knocking Dante over. “I never knew our friendship meant that little to you, that you’d try and guilt me into something I’m not comfortable doing. I’d rather live in my car.”